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Their kiss was a symphony of contrasts, a blend of urgency and restraint that left them both intoxicated with need. Trigger’s tongue traced the seam of Harley’s lips, igniting sparks that spread through his veins like wildfire. She parted her lips with a sigh, inviting him deeper, her body arching against his with a plea for more.
Trigger slipped his hand into her panties, finding her neatly trimmed, wishing he could see what he was doing. But this wasn’t about him. It was about making sure she got what she needed to forget her discomfort. This was a way for him to prove to her that being with him wouldn’t lead to the chaos she thought it would.
The instant he touched her clit with his lube-slicked fingers, she broke away from the kiss with a gasp. Harley’s nails dug into his chest as she moaned.
He didn’t stop stroking her as he lowered his mouth to her throat, trailing kisses downward. “That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me make you feel good.”
She turned more toward him, giving him better access to play. When her hand drifted away to caress her breasts, he knew she was completely with him, and it wouldn’t be long before he pushed her head first into the release she needed.
He pressed his lips to hers again in an attempt to mute the sounds of pleasure flowing more freely with each caress. It didn’t take long for her muscles to tense. She pressed her face against his chest as her hips began to rock back and forth.
“That’s it,” he coaxed.
“Trigger, please don’t stop,” she begged.
He didn’t know why she thought she had to ask because he didn’t plan to.
A few heartbeats later, she stiffened against him before her body jerked against his. When her mouth fell open, he slammed his mouth against hers just as the first cry of exhalation escaped. He held her through every twitch and jerk until she settled against him with a sigh.
She remained quiet, and it wasn’t long before her breathing began to slow before evening out. Once he was sure she’d fallen asleep again, he removed his hand from her panties and reached for the towel. After gently cleaning her, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands.
When he returned, she hadn’t stirred. He would let her get more rest before waking her. He wasn’t sure when she’d last eaten. The only thing, she’d be having the meal at his place—and if he had his way, she wasn’t returning to her room at the clubhouse.
Chapter 8
“Fuck,” Harley muttered to herself as she scrubbed a counter in the clubhouse kitchen.
She was in over her head. Trigger had slipped under the exterior of the hardened shell she’d erected when she hadn’t been paying attention.
It had probably started from the moment she’d met him, if she were honest, but last week had cemented the deal. After she’d awakened the second time in Stone, Rock, and Blue’s home, Trigger had helped her redress before whisking her off to his place, heating pad in tow.
He’d remained by her side, their conversations becoming more personal and intimate. How he listened to her, laughed at her jokes, and seemed genuinely interested in her thoughts fueled the growing realization that her feelings for him were more profound than she had ever acknowledged.
Then, there was the other side of him that left her even more confused. He’d practically held her hostage until he had to go for a supply run. When he’d left, it had been with that threat that she was at his place when he returned. He hadn’t been gone for thirty minutes before she packed her bag defiantly and returned to the clubhouse.
Much to her surprise, Calamity hadn’t tried to stop her. Instead, he’d followed her across the compound to the clubhouse and set up post there. She barely made it through the night before repacking her bag and returning to Trigger’s place.
